when i was drunk i rang you and you didn't pick up your phone.
i came to your house and bashed the door until
my knuckle bones ripped in two. my fingers were
ripped from my palm from trying to reach you.
i left my pinkie finger in your post box.
when you found it in the morning you
rang me up and told me that you had it for breakfast
along with my dignity and left me alone
with my infidelity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
now wht's this...............huh? ?